


Flaws

by GrieverBitMyFinger



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Caring Sebastian, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mirrors, Poor Ciel Phantomhive, Sad, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 12:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18165002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrieverBitMyFinger/pseuds/GrieverBitMyFinger
Summary: "Will it ever stop hurting?""Someday."





	Flaws

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't write this with the intention of posting since it was a vent-fic, but I decided to do it anyways. Enjoy my angst, I guess? <3

Flaws. That is all I can see when I look in the mirror. Mottled bruises and faded scars, birthmarks and imperfections only humanity could bare. An empty yet throbbing, all-consuming pain, a distaste for them that no other than mankind could hold for such markings-especially one born from the mortal flaunting such ugly inconsistencies in what should be flawless, milky skin. Where beauty is seen by others, I detect none. I want them all to disappear, all the things that show the faults in my defences, my personal weaknesses and failures over the years. Sebastian says that they're beautiful, that they truly only stand as proof of my strength and bravery, adding a uniqueness I would otherwise lack. But it isn't that way. Not really. Perhaps he thinks I expect that of him, a hollow comfort I know is nothing more than a fib, one he crafted meticulously and managed to slip passed the bonds of our contract by some mean or another. It hurts. Whether or not he is lying or being truthful from his own perspective, it doesn't fix the errors in my form.

I try my best to hide from him and all others as well, masking myself beneath elegant coats and heeled boots, and arrogance and stubbornness beyond all bounds of humanity. An eyepatch and my hair acting as a barrier between their curious eyes and my array of partially-healed wounds and patterns of scratches and scrapes marring my flesh, sparing my pride from their jeers and jibes or apologetic frowns. I don't need their sympathy, their pity, nor their amusement. I want acceptance for who I am, blemishes and battle scars included. Not by them, but by myself. Sebastian accepts me as I am. I can't bring myself to do the same.

I am too thin in their eyes, too pale, too slight in stature, with features too delicate to be possessed a nobleman. "Worthless," The masked woman looming over me had chanted nearly a decade ago, her voice forever haunting dreams and tainting my memories. _Worthless._ I am in my eyes too. Everyone thinks I'm heartless. Cold, calculated, cocky, cruel. They aren't entirely wrong; their claims are only false in their generalization. Cold? Perhaps I am. But I am not without feelings. Pride for how far I've come with my demon by my side, amusement at the antics of the servants during dinner parties, and though I often don't know how to show it - love for the ones I hold dear. Hatred burns deep inside me for those who wronged me, tortured me and my brother, and ended the lives of my family, but loneliness overpowers even that. 

It leaves me hollow, mind adrift and chest throbbing, a black hole inside me consuming all that matters most in the midst of my despair. I am not alone-I have the servants, my two cousins, my aunt and uncle, _Sebastian._ So why do I still feel like something is missing? Will the feeling ever go away or am I cursed to bare it for the rest of my days? Suffering silently, knowing that no matter how desperately I wish for it to abate, that it never will.

Gloved hands grip my shoulders, though I do not react in shock at their suddeness, holding more gentleness than they should be capable of mustering as they tug and pull me close, leaving my bare back to the white, charcoal, and ebony clad chest. "You are handsome, clever, kind... To me, you are utter perfection, scars and blemishes included. And most of all... You are loved, young master. It will be okay in time, I swear this to you. And you know that I never lie."

Sebastian smiled, if a bit sadly, and turned me to face him, rubbing my arms and guiding my head to his chest, holding me securely against his warm being and away from the cold glare the mirror projects. In the unforgiving winter, he is my summer, melting away the ice that has encrusted around my heart and embedded itself within the very depths of my soul. Tearing and breaking apart my sorrows, only to fill every crack and crevice in my defenses with his consoling whispers and promises he swore never to break.

Even still, clear droplets flood my eyes and flow down my cheeks, dripping from my chin and seeping into the sable fabric of his coat, dyeing it an even darker shade of obsidian. Gripping his lapels, I failed to stop myself from clinging to him as if my life depended on it, because in that moment it felt like it did. Lips grazed my fluttering eyelids before coming to rest on my right temple, hot breath soothing the chill lingering deep inside my weary body. I feel as if I have fallen overboard, tumbling into the furthest, most dark and numbing reaches of my mind, drowning in my pain and doubts. But at least I have him here. My light in the dark; my anchor at sea; my dark angel. The tears don't subside any more than the tremble in my hands or the unsteady breaths threatening to choke me do, but neither does Sebastian's secure embrace, his soft pattern of hums and purrs, or his tender kisses as he wraps me in his coat. Steadying my voice long enough to speak, I asked what I had been too proud to ask until the moment in which my barriers shattered completely, leaving me tired and my nerves frayed, completely giving in to the protective hold my demon offered both in body and mind.

"Will it ever stop hurting?"

"Someday."


End file.
